


Ask yourself: what would Dick do? (Then don’t do that)

by renecdote



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Love, Emotinal Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Nightmares, emphasis on the comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renecdote/pseuds/renecdote
Summary: It’s probably just that Tim is the only person around, but the idea that maybe, possibly, Damian associates him with safety… Tim doesn’t know what the hell to make of that. Even after two years, they’re at each other’s throats more often than they aren’t. Hell, if asked, Tim would have said that he was the last person Damian would go to in a crisis.So he asks himself: what would Dick do?
Comments: 10
Kudos: 178





	Ask yourself: what would Dick do? (Then don’t do that)

**Author's Note:**

> I think I forgot to post this here? Written for a tumblr prompt ("I heard you shout. Nightmares again?")

There are certain instincts that every human being has. Some of those instincts are stronger than others, and some are made stronger by life experience. Tim likes to think he’s always had pretty good instincts, but he can’t deny that becoming Robin dialed them up to about a thousand. Seven years ago, if he heard a scream, he would have felt the appropriate alarm, maybe even tried to help (as much as a twelve-year-old could). But now, he’s up and running toward the sound—game controller abandoned, game not even paused—before his brain has even fully processed what he heard.

When it does, he pauses halfway down the hallway. Alfred is down in the Cave, Batman and Black Bat are out on patrol, Nightwing is in Bludhaven, Red Hood is probably causing chaos somewhere. Tim and Damian are the only ones currently in the house. The very secure, wired-with-a-dozen-alarms-that-would-have-pinged-on-his-phone house. Intruders are unlikely. Plus—and it’s an important part of why he stops to think—the scream came from Damian’s room.

So Tim hesitates. Long enough, apparently, for Damian’s bedroom door to open and the kid to stumble out, then come to an abrupt halt when he finds Tim lurking in the hallway. 

“I, um, I heard you shout,” Tim offers awkwardly. “Nightmare?”

Damian won’t look at him. It’s as good an answer as if he’d held up a flashing billboard saying YES in bright, capital letters. 

“It was nothing,” Damian says anyway. 

“Okay,” Tim agrees easily. It’s not like he would want Damian prying details of his own nightmares out of him; no need to be hypocritical. He turns around to go back to his own room, but pauses again when he sees Damian take a half-step toward him out of the corner of his eye. An unconscious movement, probably, the kind motivated by all those messy feelings nightmares stir up. Things like _find_ _safety_ and _alone is bad_ and _did that shadow just wink at me?_

It’s probably just that Tim is the only person around, but the idea that maybe, possibly, Damian associates him with safety… Tim doesn’t know what the hell to make of that. Even after two years, they’re at each other’s throats more often than they aren’t. Hell, if asked, Tim would have said that he was the last person Damian would go to in a crisis.

So he asks himself: _what would Dick do?_

And then he takes a couple of extra seconds to figure out whether he really does want to do what he knows Dick would do. Because the answer is obvious: Dick would make sure Damian was okay, that he felt safe and comfortable, and he’d probably smother the kid in cuddles. None of which fits easily into the unsteady truce (and, often, outright hostility) that Tim and Damian’s relationship is built upon. 

Ah, fuck it.

“Actually—” Tim mentally curses his dumb, superhero-honed, must-help-everyone-in-need instincts as he spins back to face Damian. “—maybe you can help me with something. I’ve been trying to finish this quest but I keep dying right before the end. It’s driving me crazy and Bruce said if I break another controller he’s going to stop replacing them.”

(He neglects to mention that most of those controllers were broken because his not-so-human friends were involved, and Bruce’s exact words had been “tell Superboy that if he can’t learn enough control to stop breaking these things he can start replacing them himself”.)

Damian somehow manages to look down at Tim from his three inches less of height. “Tt. You failing at something? I’m shocked.”

_Ouch._

“Well if you’re going to be like that…”

A hand darts out to grab his shirt before Tim can give up on trying to be nice— _see Dick, I do try!_ —and go back to slaying zombies by himself. It’s not like he needs the help anyway. This is his second time playing the game through—not that Damian needs to know that—so he can definitely do it on his own.

(And sure, maybe Bart beat this fight for him the first time, but whatever.)

“What game?” Damian asks.

Tim grins. “Oh you’re gonna love it—just as long as you don’t tell Alfred.”

There is a strict ‘no video games after midnight’ rule in the Manor—not that Tim ever follows it—and it would be just like the brat to tell on him when he has perfected the art of never getting caught. Although, Tim is pretty sure that if he explained his reasoning, Alfred would give him an exception for tonight.

“Fine,” Damian agrees. 

He follows Tim back to his room, where, as expected, the TV screen is joyfully informing him that he was just killed by zombies. Tim sighs and hands the controller to Damian.

“Okay, it’s not as easy as Cheese Viking—”

“I know how to play things other than Cheese Viking!”

“—but try not to die on your first attempt.”

Then, as is his right as brother, he laughs when Damian does.

(And you know what? It turns out that playing video games with the brat is actually kinda fun.)

(Not that he’s ever going to admit that to anyone.)

( _Especially_ not Dick.)


End file.
